


Forever on the Run

by jupitardigs



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Teen Titans (Animated Series) Setting, Apprentice episodes, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dubious Consent, Evil Slade Wilson, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Breakdown, On the Run, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Victim Blaming, Victim Guilt, Why Did I Write This?, will there be sex?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25009384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupitardigs/pseuds/jupitardigs
Summary: “I know you Robin. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re a wild dog, a danger to everyone around you. A pitiful, dirtymutt. You need to be trained. You need a master..."Dick Grayson finally escapes from Slade, but at the cost of his friends, his family, and his dignity. After years of apprenticing under the worlds best assassin, he realized he has no one to go back to. No where to escape to. So Dick Grayson is on the run.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 161





	1. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's technically a prologue.

Dick jolted awake from a nightmare, his chest tight and breathing uneven. It took several minutes of studying his surroundings and jumping at every slight sound he heard before he was able to catch his breath. He was alone. He was safe.

But it was moments like this, waking up from a violent nightmare, paranoid beyond belief when that all too familiar ache took hold. A longing for his family... For his friends…

He sighed, sitting up and shaking his head to clear the fog from his brain before stretching out on the bench he was sleeping on.

The sun was rising, and Dick found himself relieved, and possibly hopeful, that he had slept through the night. It was the first time in a while. A long while.

And maybe it wouldn’t be the last?

He rubbed the back of his neck as he stood, taking in the landscape around him. It smelled of fresh rain, and Dick was grateful that the bus stop had a roof, enough of one to tuck his bike underneath. 

He pulled a hair tie off his wrist and gently tied his hair into a ponytail. He remembered when he would give everything and anything to cut it all off. He remembered how easy it was for… for _Him_ to grab. To yank him around, drag him across the floor, keep him compliant and rueful.

Now, it was best to just keep it long. No one recognized him anymore. He didn’t have to worry about being caught.

Dick took a water bottle from the saddlebag on his bike, unscrewed the cap, and tipped his head back, letting the water flow into his mouth and over his face.

How long had it been since he had a warm bath? A shower? How long had it been since he felt clean?

He didn’t even know the exact answer.

After a while, the days blended together. His Mas-... _He_... had kept Dick to an identical schedule every single day. Wake up. Train. Mission briefing or lectures. Field assignment. Train. Eat. Sleep. He knew that it had been over a year. He knew that it had been over several years. But he didn’t know _exactly how long_.

He tried to ignore how much that bothered him.

Dick wiped the water from his face with his sleeve before taking another deep breath. He put the water bottle back and checked the rest of what little luggage he had, before starting the bike and kicking off. 

A part of him felt bad about leaving the little bus stop. It had been the most comfortable place he had slept since the last motel he had been able to afford. Somewhere safe in the countryside to close his eyes after two days of no sleep.

But he had to keep moving.

He could never stop. Never look back. 

Because he knew that Slade would never stop until he got what he wanted.


	2. Far from the last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash back time!!

The sun was just beginning to set when Dick rolled into the next city; one _much_ smaller than Gotham, but with an ambiance that reminded him of home. He found himself grateful, tentatively so, for something that was familiar - that he could enjoy, even if just for a little while.

Dick circled the area for a bit, before finding a secluded but not completely hidden ally to park his bike in. He rolled to a stop, setting his foot down on the cement as the weight of the bike tipped. He took off his helmet and shook out his hair as he took in his surroundings. 

Tall glass buildings, bustling and crowded stores, crumbling brick apartments, and a musty, smoky smell that seemed to linger everywhere.

Yeah... Just like home.

Dick fished out a pair of sunglasses from the saddle bags and pulled up the hood of his jacket. When you're being hunted by a world class mercenary/assassin, you learn that anonymity is very important.

It would just be a quick stop. He just needed food... and a change of clothes...

Dick swallowed heavily as he left the safety of the shadows and merged with the pedestrian traffic, trying to ignore the nausea that bloomed in his stomach. Unsuspecting faces, smiling faces, happy faces drifted past him, blurry and featureless. 

Children clung to their parents, teenagers chatted with their friends, business associates argued outside of cafes. It was all a cruel reminder of the past he could never go back to. The friends he could never see again.

Not after everything he did.

His mas-... Slade had spent a terrifying amount of time preaching the stupidity and vulnerability of empathy. Nothing good came from pity. Nothing good came from showing mercy.

And for the most part, that apathetic mindset was fully cemented into his head. He lived for himself now. A traitor forever on the run. 

And he would do whatever it took to survive.

Dick ducked into a small convenience store on the corner of the street, noting the location of the security camera when he entered. The store wasn’t empty, but it was far enough from full to assure his identity was safe.

He wandered up and down an aisle, taking in the rows and rows of heavily processed, over flavored snacks. Nothing looked appealing though. He couldn't quite get past the sheer amount of chemicals hidden in the ingredients list.

Dick had survived off the bare minimum for the last few years, eating only the rawest forms of nutrition. Oatmeal, unflavored meats, questionable and bitter blends of different vegetables were his usual meals. And when he was lucky - and well behaved - herbal tea.

Tea.

Dick made his way to the back of the store, to the cold glass doors of the beverage section. Sure enough, iced tea. A brand he wasn’t familiar with. But it didn’t matter. Maybe the familiar sweetness could calm his anxieties, as it did so well back at the safe house. He pulled it off the shelf, rolling it in his hand, and was turning back to the food aisle when suddenly, a high pitched wail snatched his attention.

He whipped around quickly to see an older woman standing over a young boy who was sobbing uncontrollably, clutching the side of his face with one hand. The woman held his other with a tight grip, crouched down and leaning in close.

“ _Shut the fuck up, brat._ ” She hissed quietly. “I told you what was going to happen if you kept on misbehaving, but if you keep it up, I’ll do it again.”

The boy continued to cry, trying to pull away in defiance.

Dick watched as the woman raised her arm...

“Tell me honestly, apprentice,” Slade’s voice was smooth. He sounded unbothered. Calm. And it sent chills down Dick’s spine. “Did you really think that would work?”

Dick stood with his head bowed, trying to control the shaking of his hands. He had tried to escape again. Learning, memorizing, hacking into the security every time Slade’s back was turned. But… he hadn’t even made it outside. He hadn’t even made it close. “No, master. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, Robin? You say that every time. And yet you still do it.” His master paced forwards until he stood just in front of him, grabbing his chin roughly and yanking it upwards. Dick did his best to look everywhere but into that one… _piercing_... eye. “Why is that?”

_Because I hate you._

He bit his tongue.

Slade held his head there for a moment longer, before dropping it suddenly. “I would have hoped my _lessons_ would have taught you better.” He paused, regarding Dick with passive disappointment. “But it seems that wasn’t enough.”

Dick felt his heart lurch and immediately jerked his head up again. “No! Please, master... I’m sorry. I won’t- I won’t do it aga-” Dick was cut off abruptly by a slap to the face that sent him sprawling across the floor. He choked out a cry of pain as he held his head, ears ringing.

“Think carefully about the consequences before you lie to my face, apprentice.” Slade snarled, marching over to where Dick was scrambling to his feet, grabbing him by the shoulder and digging his fingers into his skin. “I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re a wild dog, a danger to everyone around you. A pitiful, grimy mutt. You need to be trained. Isn't that right, Robin.”

Dick swallowed heavily, his eyes pinched shut tightly, begging himself not to cry. Not to break. “Yes, master.”

“‘Yes master’, what?” He prodded.

_Please… No…_

“I need to be trained, master.” The words burned.

“Yes.” Slade agreed, the satisfaction evident in his voice. “You do, _mutt._ ”

There was a moment of silence as Slade let the words sink in. This was the first time, but far from the last, that he compared Dick to a dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am. So sorry this took so long!! I was in a total, utter, ridiculous writers block for just this one section. Hopefully it won't happen again. Wow.
> 
> I must thank my dear friend DragonSpring38912, who has helped me with several stories before, and helped me once again get out of that rut with some great ideas! You're awesome dude :)
> 
> Anywho, 
> 
> Thank yall for reading!
> 
> Love ya <3


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five men, one dick.
> 
> ...*Dick.
> 
> lol

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” Dick was jolted back to reality with a gentle tug on his jacket. He jerked his head to the side anxiously, ready to run at any given moment, and met the gaze of a concerned looking old lady. She held his sleeve tenderly between her thumb and forefinger, her eyebrows pinched with worry.

Dick took a deep breath as he tried to ground himself again. His heart was racing after the flashback. His body was tense, trembling slightly. 

“It’s my kid! I decide how I want to parent my kid!”

He was once again taken off guard by a loud argument and turned to see a young woman confronting the child’s mother, one hand on her hip and a phone to her ear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! He’s just a baby! You don’t hit a baby!” She held up her finger and turned her head to the side. “Hey, CPS? I wasn’t sure who to call exactly about this but-”

The older woman, still pinching the sleeve of his shirt, inquired again.

“Sir?” 

Dick turned back to look at her. He opened his mouth, before a quiet voice reminded him of his circumstances. He thought better of it, and nodded curtly instead, pulling away quickly.

The concern in her eyes wasn’t soothing. It wasn’t reassuring.

It was uncomfortable.

A look he hadn't seen in years and reminder of what he would never get back...

He stepped around her and walked past the dispute to the front counter, placing the tea and a couple bags of snacks he had nabbed off a shelf in front of a distracted cashier.

Neither woman showed any sign of stopping.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re calling!?” The mother screamed.

“Child Protective Services, bitch!” The young woman retorted back.

“Uhhh… Rewards card?” The young man, trying to discreetly crane his neck over Dick’s shoulder, shuffled through the items on the counter and began scanning them.

Dick shook his head, but he wasn’t completely sure if the teen even saw it.

“That’ll be ten fifty-eight.” 

Ten dollars and fifty-eight cents. 

Dick had 13 dollars from the last city. That was 2 dollars and 42 cents left in his pocket. 

He grimaced internally as he slid a crumpled ten and a one across the counter, obviously hesitating to part with them.

“Do you want it in a bag?”

Dick didn’t have to respond, as the cashier, still patiently engaged with the situation behind the counter, began bagging them immediately.

Just as the young man was handing them back, there was a _‘ding’_ from the front doors. Two uniformed officers entered, an aura of smug confidence and self-righteousness heavy in the air around them. They casually looked around before singling out the source of the commotion and approaching.”

“What seems to be the problem here?”

Dick didn’t stay to hear the rest of the conversation, grabbing his purchase from the cashier's outstretched arm and sprinting out the door.

He was ever so conscious of the old woman’s gaze on the back of his head as he left.

_Idiot._

_You stayed too long. You’re going to be on security cameras._

Dick grimaced at the snarl from the voice in his head, trying to focus only on the path ahead as he dodged confused pedestrians and snaked his way through the dwindling congestion of the street.

_You spent too much. You let that woman see your face._

Dick continued on as the sidewalk emptied slowly. Until the soft pink of a sunset turned to a gray-blue as it disappeared behind the buildings. He slowed to a brisk walk, hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers tight around his fare, eyes glued to the turn into the alleyway just ahead.

It was then he became intensely aware of how quiet it was.

He held his breath in tense anticipation as he took a hurried jog around the corner, before heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of his bike, tilted - untouched - on its kickstand.

Dick only managed one step towards it, before every nerve prickled in sudden nervous excitement.

“So you’re the bike owner, eh? We’ve been waiting quite a while for you.” A deep, sourceless voice sounded from behind him.

It felt like a cold wave of silence crashed over him. One moment, his entire body jittered with adrenaline, frustration, panic. Then the next-

The sounds of city life faded around him. His eyes narrowed and his body relaxed. And a familiar calm settled over him…

Visually, he could see two figures lingering around the second bend in the alley, casually but cautiously paying close attention to him. But, tuned into every sound and movement his body picked up, he determined there were five of them altogether.

“We don’t want trouble.” The same deep voice continued. “Just hand over your wallet an’ keys an’ whatever else you got on you an’ you won’t get hurt…” He paused. “...much.”

The insinuation garnered a collective snicker from the aggressors.

“I-I’m sorry- Please don’t hurt me.” Dick stammed, as he slowly turned around, hands in the air. “Just take it. Everything’s in my pocket.” His eyes were wide in plastic worry as he analyzed the scene.

The man who had been talking stood idly with one hand hanging by his thigh, brandishing what looked like a clip point switchblade. He was flanked by two other men, neither showing any weapons, but the possibility was always there.

Dick heard the two from behind him approach.

“It’s ok buddy. Just back up against the wall an’ keep your hands up.” He stalked forwards as Dick pressed his back against the cold brick, never once dropping his gaze.

The man slammed his knife-equipped hand to the left of Dick’s head, a yellowed and crooked grin plastered across his face. “Just stay put, pretty boy.” He murmured, a sickly sweet taunt.

Dick watched the other man’s eyes fiercely, watching as they flickered across his face, as his own reflection stared back in the inky pits of the pupils, trying to ignore as his hands dug through his jacket pockets, groping unnecessarily at anything and everything.

Then the man, obviously pleased with Dick’s lack of retaliation, finally looked down to see what treasures he received.

Dick grabbed the crook of the man’s arm and twisted it backwards, swinging his own arm up and shoving it with all his strength back down on the elbow.

The man let out a wicked scream of agony as his elbow collapsed inwards, bone cracking loudly as the muscle gave. 

Using his free arm, Dick shoved the hand propped against the wall away and ducked to the left as the man lost his balance, and the knife, falling to the ground, and groaning in pain.

Dick crouched low as the others began to react, shouts of surprise and anger echoing in the dampening air. He somersaulted forwards, pushing off the palms of his hands into a steep backwards jump, snatching the abandoned blade off the cement.

The second goon threw a heavy but completely aimless punch, which Dick defected, falling under his arm and bringing his fist in quickly to his abdomen. The man gagged and stumbled forwards, as Dick sidestepped directly between two others waiting just behind him.

He dropped his center of balance, bending his knees and letting gravity take the rest of his body, falling away quickly enough so both attackers had to awkwardly stop to avoid crashing into one another. Dick swung his leg along the ground, catching one man’s feet and knocking him quickly off his balance, before grabbing the fourth man by the back of his calves and pulling him upwards and moving forwards just enough so he was leaning over Dick’s shoulder, before letting go, allowing the man’s weight do the rest of the work.

Only after he heard the dull thunk of a skull on a hard surface did Dick whip around to face the fifth attacker, who was much more cautious, standing out of easy range for any simple attack. And even more frustratingly, he had pulled a tactic that Dick added to a mental list of possibilities, but wasn’t exactly preparing for.

The sheen mental of a handgun glinted in ever-darkening shadows.

Reacting to the sound of the people behind him finding their feet again, he reacted subconsciously by sprinting at a sharp diagonal from where the fifth man stood. 

Dick stared intently at his face, as the man’s eyes followed his movements, his eyebrows creased in fear and panic.

He never paused his stride as he watched the most subtle pinch of the man’s eyes, synonymous with the anticipation of the recoil from a shot, spinning on his heels and purposefully tripping into the wall next to him.

The shot rang out in empty space.

Dick propelled himself off the bricks behind him, a slight sting radiating through his shoulder. He leapt into the air, jutting out his leg and catching the gunman in the jaw with a knockout kick that sent him flying backwards. The gun clattered to the ground.

Without stalling, Dick spun back around, quickly dodging a desperate punch from the third assailant and returning the attempt with a vicious kick to the knee. The man screamed, clutching his leg as he fell.

Dick calmly stepped over his body as he evaded a flurry of rapid and careless swings from the man he sucker punched in the gut. He caught a particularly strong fist in his palm, immediately tightening his grip and rolling his wrist forwards, pressing his fingertips into the man's knuckles, and finding himself slightly amused by the wide-eyed shock as he swiftly broke all his fingers.

The man let out a strangled shout and in his momentary bewilderment, Dick allowed himself a second sucker punch, driving his own fist into the man's nose.

He dropped like a stone.

Dick wiped the sweat from his forehead as he looked around, watching carefully for sudden, aggressive movements.

Three men were unconscious. One rolled on the ground, gasping and moaning in pain. The other was still tucked against the wall, his eyes wide and unfocused, obviously in shock.

Dick gave the man in front of him a quick kick to the back of the head and his groaning ceased immediately. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, wincing as the sting made itself known again. 

One by one, he knelt down beside each body, searching through their clothing for anything useful: ie. cash, weapons, IDs… 

Finally, he reached the man who had first confronted him. He was still dazed, his breathing shallow and light, arm laying crookedly in his lap, but his eyes followed Dick’s movement, watching as he picked his things back off the ground and began to put them in his saddle bag. 

Dick turned back to the man and crouched down next to him.

“Don’t tell anyone what happened today. Don’t tell anyone who you saw. Just know I can take down anyone I need to, and if I find out you said something, I’ll kill you for real.”

It was a groundless threat, but an effective one nonetheless. He gave the man a moment to process his words before pinching a pressure point on his neck and watching his head fall limply to the side.

As Dick returned to his bike, an indescribable feeling heavy in his gut, a metallic glint caught his eye.

The gun lay passively in the middle of the alley way, coiled in quiet, deadly potential.

Dick approached slowly, as if it would come to life again. The back of his head buzzed with warning from years of caution and restriction, and his fingertips tingled from the memories of-

_“Master- Master please!” Dick sobbed, trying to squirm out of Slade’s impossibly strong grip._

_He stood with his back against the older man’s chest, caged between his arms. Slade held his hands tightly against the grip of a gun, holding it outstretched and aiming at the target at the other end of the room._

_“Quiet, apprentice.” Slade murmured in his ear, steadying Dick’s incessant shaking. “You’re going to have to get used to it.”_

_“Please… please…” He choked, weakly trying to pry his hands out from under Slade’s. “I can’t… I-”_

_“Yes you can, mutt.” The man all but cooed. His voice was soft... gentle... dark..._

_Dick winced as Slade’s finger trapped his own onto the trigger, slowly adding more and more pressure._

_“Be a good boy, Robin. Just relax…”_

The recoil was so vivid in his memory that Dick felt the shock run up his arm once again. He swallowed heavily as he stared down at the weapon, before leaning down and picking it up tenderly.

The metal was cold and he made a point to quickly remove the magazine and empty the bullets into his hand. Once they were out, he let out a soft sigh, once again returning to his bike and gently placing the gun along with the rest of his loot.

He started his engine, and put on his helmet, carefully maneuvering around the bodies strewn around the alley and turning into the street.

It was completely dark out now. The street lights glowed a warm yellow over cracked pavement. Tar-lined cracks snaked along the street in strange patterns. The air smelled crisp and cold, like it did before the rain.

Dick rode silently out of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It happened again...
> 
> Yeah. This took me a loooong time. Lots of rethinking, planning, deleting, etc.
> 
> I would like to thank my editor, Scared_Blob aka Riddle_Richard for their constant and quality work, but also WithTheKeyisKing for helping me out of my writers block with some great ideas and feedback.
> 
> Soooo yeah
> 
> Enjoy :)


	4. Unfortunate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick recollects on a dark memory.

_He had been returning from a successful field mission, the object of Slade’s interest tucked into a pocket on his thigh. He once again narrowly avoided what would have been another painful encounter with the titans, and was now sprinting through dark streets on his way towards the safe house._

_Despite a successful mission (little to no confrontation) and the object of Slade’s interest tucked safely into a pocket on his thigh, Dick still felt uneasy._

_Something was off._

_He honed in on his surroundings without breaking a stride, glancing subtly left and right, ears pricked for sourceless noises._

_Someone was definitely following him. Maybe more._

_Anticipating a fight, Dick took a sharp turn in the opposite direction he needed to go, instead weaving through the back alley that he knew stopped at a sudden dead end._

_“You have company.” Slade’s voice was sharp and sudden in his ear._

_“I’m aware.” He replied simply._

_“Get back quick.”_

_“...Yes master.”_

_As soon as he turned around the corner he jumped, grabbing the lowest bar of the fire escape ladder and propelling himself up and onto the landing._

_Sure enough, three figures clad in black came sprinting around the corner right after him. They froze in surprise as they met with a dead end and no target in sight._

_Dick couldn't help but grin as anxious energy rolled through his body, skin prickling with guilty excitement._

_He gripped the railing with knuckles white under his gloves, taking a deep breath before launching himself over and behind his pursuers._

_As soon as he landed, they whipped around, confusion fading into intense focus in mere seconds, lowering themselves into a readied stance and brandishing a small arsenal of short blades._

_Not giving them another second to collect themselves, Dick attacked._

_Block. Dodge. Block. Strike. Block._

_Fighting more than one person at once is a matter of being almost completely opportunistic, especially when the opponents are coordinated and skilled. When attacks come all at once, moving in synchronization, you have to stay entirely defensive until you find a flaw in their attack._

_And these guys were really good about not giving him a chance._

_They had him surrounded, close enough so that Dick couldn’t single one of them out, but far enough away he couldn't use them against each other._

_He managed a couple hits here and there, knocking several blades out of low flying swings, connecting a couple punches and jabs at joints and weak spots. But it wasn’t enough._

_He gritted his teeth as he narrowly avoided a cut to the face only to back straight into a horizontal slice that tore through the back of his suit._

_His forearms were littered with little nicks from barely blocking blunt attacks and the back of his leg stung from a shallow stab wound._

_“Slade… They’re not-” Dick gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm and take deep breaths. They had backed off again to regroup and were circling him slowly. He felt so vulnerable, always having his back to at least one of them._

_“I know.” Slade was silent for a while, before responding curtly. “I’ll be there soon”._

_Dick tried to ignore the pain from his injuries as he watched their movements carefully._

_Only two in his line of sight, the other-_

_Dick grunted as a foot connected with his back, sending him crashing forwards into the not-so-welcoming arms of the other men._

__Would ‘soon’ be soon enough?_ _

_It wasn’t long before he was overwhelmed; pinned against the ground and struggling against impossibly strong hands that tightened around his throat._

_“Slade-” He choked out, his mind buzzing painfully. Loudly._

_Dick struggled uselessly as he tried to suck air in. His wide-eyed reflection stared back at him from the dark eyes of the man who was going to kill him._

_His nose started to bleed as he fought to breath, grabbing at the ground next to him; blind and frantic._

_“I'm almost there kid.”_

_Dick barely heard his response through an agonized scream as one of the men raised his foot and slammed it down at his left hand. The hollow, sickening crack of bones breaking seemed to reverberate through his entire body but he was still unable to free himself, watching in horror as the same man pulled a small handgun from his waistband: a dark silhouette, absorbing what little light remained from the surroundings._

_He choked again as his head grew foggy. His right hand fell and made one more desperate grab at the ground next to him..._

_He felt the cool metal of a blade._

_Dick pulled the handle to his palm, wrapping a numb finger around it as tightly as he could._

_The click of a gun cocking pulled his attention back to the man standing at his left and he was met with the deceptively empty black-ness of a barrel._

_He didn’t feel the shot. Just noise violently splitting his entire body in half. Sending white streaks through darkening vision._

_He couldn’t scream. His throat was crushed. He needed Bruce. He needed Bruce to tell him what to do._

_What _not_ to do._

_But there was nothing. He had nothing. Everything was gone. Everything but-_

_‘ _Slade… please…_ ’ His lips formed the words and the remnants of a breath whistled through clenched teeth, but no sound came out._

_Life seemed to bleed from every part of his body. His mouth, his chest, his arms, his legs. Everything slowly went numb._

_So with a muted cry of pain, sorrow, confusion, and fear, he plunged his blade as deep as he could into his killer’s neck._

_The knife entered smoothly through the soft skin that guarded his throat, before sheathing itself deep into tense muscle._

_Blood gushed down his arm, soaking into the dense mesh of his suit, speckling his face like warm rain._

_So much blood._

_The man let out a horrible noise, like air rising from deep water. Dick watched a frothy pink bubble down his neck, pearly spheres drowning out the monotonous gurgling._

_He stared numbly ahead as the pressure on his neck dissolved and the man collapsed backwards. Cold air rushed viciously into his lungs, paralysing him completely._

_Voices. Yelling. Screaming._

_Something warm splattered across his face as another body collapsed beside him. Then the last._

_His Master's impossibly built, incredibly large body towered over him, staring down with a single, cold eye._

_But Dick just allowed himself to relax under the familiar safety of that split mask, speckled with red._

_Before he knew it he was crying uncontrollably, numb hands outstretched. Reaching, needing… wanting._

Dick jolted awake, choking on panicked sobs. He was shaking violently, skin hot and tight. His shoulder burned fiercely and a headache pounded on his skull.

He sat up quickly, gulping down air and struggling to gather his wits. Where was he? When had he fallen asleep?

Wind rustled through tall grass under an overcast sky. His bike was to his left, tipped on its side in a small wake of dirt. As he struggled to his feet he noticed his left sleeve was stiff; the same side that radiated pain. 

_’The cut…’_

He stumbled over to his bike, wrestling his way out of his hoodie, and grabbed a bottle of water from the saddle bag.

The wound was red and puffy, surrounded by bruised skin. The bullet only grazed him, but it had taken off quite a few layers of skin. Dried blood caked his arm and serous fluid still seeped from the open gouge.

He tipped the bottle, letting lukewarm water wash over his shoulder. It hurt, but as the initial sting faded and red-tinted water started to run clear, he felt his anxieties start to dull. As soon as the bottle was empty, he fished through his bag to find a shirt he had picked up at a gas station, split some threads with his teeth, and ripped a long strip of fabric free.

With only moderately shaking hands, Dick did his best to pull the make-shift bandage as tight as he could around his injury, securing it with a simple knot.

That was one problem dealt with. 

Another cold breeze whipped through the grass, sending an intense chill through his body. He felt weak, heavy, sick… Miserable.

Dick sunk back to the ground, pulling his blood stained hoodie onto his lap and burying his face in the fabric. 

_Slade had taken care of him when he was sick…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you're so desperate for your favorite pairing that you check the tag EVERY MORNING AND NIGHT FOR NEW UPLOADS!??!
> 
> yeah. totally not me.
> 
> (write more slade/dick)
> 
> :)
> 
> Sorry for the late upload my dear readers. School's starting again, swim season's starting again (but we're not allowed in the pool yet), I'm starting new meds and I haven't gotten a refill on my other meds and everything is chaotic.
> 
> But I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> Love yall SOOOOO much <3 <3
> 
> Enjoy ~~


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